Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1887-09-30

Philosophy may analyze tear, but it can.
not curve hope in it. 1t may make a
spectrum, but it cannot make smile-and
the text for this is brief one
Died, on Wednesday morning, the 9TH
Of September, 1887, ALDIE DUKE GREEN
aged 80 years.
His was ne sudden call-gently and gradu
ally the silver chord was loosened and the
golden bowl melted away as if it were a
scarf of vapory amethyst. Flowers lost their
charm, the breeze its freshness, the song Of
birds its music and the bright sunshine of
that sad day was joyless to O home that
| Now, to wait aud wish, and to hear no step,
no voice of husband and father, the aid
which directed and supported, the lsve that
gladdened and comforted, gone, gone-no
advent to glorify the gloom-this is TO the
overworn and wcaried watcher that mere
mechanism of tongue or pen cannot ex-
press. Our tears freeze at the fountain, our
sympathies die in the attempt to express
them.
Death is sad under any circumstances,
in any form;
"Come to the bridal chamber Death
Come TO the mothers, when she feels,
For the first time, her first-borns breath
Come when the blessed seals
That close the pestilence are broke,
And crowded cities wall its stroke;
Come in consumptions CHASTITY form,
The earthquake shock, the ocean storm;
Come when the heart beats high and warm,
With banquet song and dance and wine,
And thou art terrble-the tear,
The groan, the knell, the pail, the bier,
And all we know, or dream, or fear
OF agony, are thine"
IL this instance it did not invade child.
hood with its whitening breath or touch
yonth's bright sunny bowers. II did not
go to the weary and tired oil life--nor did II
1t came to one who was enjoying the splen-
dor and vigor Of matured manhood-whilst
hope was full blown aspirations crystallizing
and the great panorama OF lie lying out
before him pulsating with promise-"a thing
of joy and beauty" Yes, all the day dreams
that clustered around his young life, that
beat in the bosom of his manhood, have
fallen like the Autumn leaves. Joys with
their cherished and clinging memories, am.
bition with its hollow premises-all have
vanished as the flowers OF Spring. Speak
not Of the April tears of childhood, OF the
short lived trials OF youth; we forget their
lonely interest whilst they last, but when
great sorrow looms up against the occident
oil liie-@it Is the first sunset TO the the first
man"-no orient touches its goom-no after
piece of light turns the shadow of death into
morning. Such is life, ever restless and
changing, TO day we are drifting with the
tide and ON the sunny side of the stream
tomorrow its blackened and meaning bill
lows are whispering in melancholy voice
Of that great unknown shoreless eternity.
knew young Green long and intimately,
and every hours acquaintance increased my
esteem and deepened my. confidence. He
was man of warm impulses. His cordial
manners and tender emotions constituted
the most beautiful traits vf his character.
Envy found no place in his bosom. lie had
word of good cheer for all, and, as | often
observed was among the 6rst 10 lend the
assuring hand and offer an encouraging
word to those with whom he associated
The universal sentiment OF all who knew
him as private citizen, as member Of 80.
cety, in all the relations of life, he was
kind and generous-as friend, candid, sin.
cere and disnterested.
1t is not for me to enter the domestic cir
Gle, or lift the veil that now envelops his
sorrowing little family and his many con.
necti0ns and friends. Comfort for the
mourning widow and consolation for his
bereaved family comes to-day from sympa-
thizing friends-the sorrow that broods and
has enshrouded their hearts since his death
will continue to fling its shadow over their
brightest hours, but the kindly words sin
cerely offered will shine through it and pic
ture on the sky of their future rainbow of
hope and promise.
In beautiful and rustic cemetery not
far distant from those whom he most loved
where the mourniul tread of the cortege is
beard mid the blast Of Winter, the budding
voice OF Spring, the hush of Summer and
the rustlng of the Autumn leaves, he was
-nls-sed TO rest. Tall trees grow there and
lift their branches to the music of the storm
and the kissing of every breeze. Hard by,
a fringe OF silver mist marks the course of a
little stream stealing through picturesque
ravine-beautiful spot for one SO young 10
sleep-yet not too young TO die.
PEvuurE